


The Crystal and the King

by de_corporis



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Fairy Tale Elements, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-04 04:50:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12161883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/de_corporis/pseuds/de_corporis





	The Crystal and the King

On the eve of Noctis’ sixteenth birthday, his father took him to see the Crystal.

It was late at night, and most of the Citadel was already asleep. Noctis should have been sleeping, too, but his excitement for tomorrow’s festivities kept him wide awake. He lay beneath his silk coverlet, watching the moonlight streaming in through the windows, and willed morning to come just a little bit faster.

The clock had just chimed half past eleven when someone knocked softly at his door. Noctis sat bolt upright. There were no running footsteps, no shouts, no sounds of fighting, no reason at all to be alarmed, but his body was suddenly thrumming with an energy quite different from the gentle anticipation that had been keeping him awake. It was something sharper. More urgent.

Noctis slid off of his bed, padded over to the door, and pulled it open to reveal his father. Despite the lateness of the hour, King Regis was still dressed in his robes of his state, and the Crown of Lucis rested just above his temple.

“Ah, Noctis,” he said, and smiled. “I was wondering if you would accompany me on a brief excursion.”

His father had never invited him on a late night stroll through the palace before, and for a moment Noctis was too dumbfounded to speak. Then he nodded, threw on his black velvet dressing gown embroidered with the Caelum crest, and stepped out in the hall.

They walked in silence for a long time. Regis led the way through the Citadel’s labyrinthine corridors, turning a corner here and going up a staircase there, and before long Noctis wasn’t sure he could find his way back to his own room. At first they encountered a few Crownsguard on their late night patrols, but the deeper they went into the royal stronghold’s heart the less frequent they became, until the two of them were alone with nothing but the sound of their footsteps.

“You can’t sleep,” said his father at last. “I couldn’t either, the night before my sixteenth birthday.”

Noctis ducked his head. “It’s an important one,” he said. “You know, what with coming of age and all.”

“Oh, it’s more than that.” Regis’ hand landed heavily on Noctis’ shoulder and squeezed. “The Crystal is calling to you.”

A frisson of excitement rippled through Noctis. _The Crystal_. The Crystal was the source of Lucis’ power: the Holy Stone that enabled it to straddle the world like a colossus. Like all children born to the Caelum family, he had been presented to it as an infant, but had never set foot in the Crystal Chamber since then. The thought of finally seeing it as an adult, as the rightful heir to its power, sent his heart racing.

“The Crystal was the greatest artifact created by Solheim Empire,” said Regis. They were in the oldest part of the royal stronghold now, making their way up a spiral staircase carved from rock and so narrow they could barely walk abreast. “It granted the emperors and empresses dominion over the land and the sea and the air, and the people of Solheim became wealthy beyond belief.”

He fell silent, and Noctis picked up the thread of the story. “But so much power made the Empire grow capricious and cruel. It became ravenous for more power and waged war on all the other kingdoms of Eos. Solheim swords spilled so much blood the oceans turned red, and the people prayed for the Empire’s destruction. But the violence continued until Ardyn Lucis Caelum crept into the dread fortress at Costlemark, struck the emperor down, and liberated the Crystal. He brought it here to Insomnia, and ever since then our line has used the Crystal’s power to bring peace and prosperity to Eos.”

“That is what they say,” said Regis. They’d come to a halt before an ancient metal door inscribed with arcane symbols. “Perhaps we Caelums are the Solheim emperors as they should have been. Perhaps not. But I wonder if it can ever be possible to rule justly when our power comes from a corrupted source.”

The King’s voice was heavy with sorrow, and Noctis frowned.

“Father?”

Regis pushed the door open. “It is time for you to meet the Crystal, Noctis.”

The sudden flood of brilliance made Noctis cry out and cover his eyes. After a few moments he chanced a look, still blinking furiously. The Chamber of the Crystal was simpler than he’d imagined. He’d thought it would be a grand place, as imposing as the great throne room where the Lucian kings held court; but it was small, scarcely five paces across, and the dull stone walls were bare of adornment. Not that anyone would have been able to appreciate any sort of decoration, anyhow, for it was impossible to look at anything other than the Crystal itself.

It was an immense geode, almost as tall as Regis, and its sparkling heart glowed with a vivid blue light that rivaled the sun in its brilliance. Noctis had never seen such an intoxicating color. It dragged him forward, like a bird to a lure, and he reached out to touch the sparkling facets.

“Beautiful isn’t it?”

Noctis jerked his hand back. He’d been so captivated by the Crystal he’d forgotten everything else, even his father’s presence. Regis smiled at him, as though he knew exactly how affected Noctis had been, and laid his own hand on the stone.

“It is a stunningly beautiful thing,” said Regis, “and it possesses immense power. But that power was achieved through terrible means.” He pressed his hand down against the Crystal’s sharp edges and dragged it down, leaving a line of crimson behind. The Crystal’s light began to pulse, and Noctis stepped back uneasily.

“Father…”

But Regis ignored him and continued to speak, his low voice spilling terrible words into the night. “The ancient priests of Solheim sacrificed a young man to the goddess of death. He was still alive when they bound him to the dead stone, and he was still alive when they carved out his heart. They say his screams disturbed all of the birds for miles around, but the priests were unmoved, for the greater the agony, the more power they would harness. And when the poor boy finally breathed his last, they forced his soul into the stone and trapped it there.”

Noctis’ skin was prickling. The blue light of the Crystal, so beautiful just moments ago, now seemed ominous.

“You must understand, Noctis, that the Crystal’s power stems from cruelty. And no matter how wisely we may try to wield it, I fear that in the end it can only lead to ruin.”

“Then why do we use it?” whispered Noctis.

“Even now Niflheim pushes at our borders and seeks to overwhelm us.” Regis stepped away from the Crystal. The drops of his blood were dark against the stone’s shimmering surface. “Would a wise ruler refuse to use their greatest weapon?”

“I don’t know,” said Noctis, helpless and confused. “But this…”

“This is our burden,” said Regis implacably. “The one you must bear. Now watch.” He bowed deeply before the Crystal, the way that his own nobles bowed to him, then straightened and pressed his hand to his heart.

“I summon thee,” he said, and his voice echoed through the small chamber. “Come forth and meet my son, the heir of Lucis.”

The blue light at the stone’s heart condensed into a pinprick. For a second the chamber grew dark. Then the light blazed forth again, only this time it had taken on the form of a lithe young man just a few years older than Noctis himself. It was suffused with brilliant blue radiance, but Noctis had an impression of pale skin and golden hair, of long eyelashes and perfectly formed lips. It would be beautiful, were it not terrifying.

And it was coming toward Noctis. It raised his hands and traced them in the air over Noctis’ face, as though it wanted to caress Noctis’ cheekbones, and Noctis trembled so hard he felt it in his bones.

When the spirit spoke, it was directly into Noctis’ mind.

_Noctis_ , it sighed, its voice heavy with the weight of centuries. _I have been waiting so very long for you._

Noctis’ eyes rolled back into his head, and he knew no more.

* * *

The following day, the entire city of Insomnia celebrated the Crown Prince’s coming of age. There was a parade that began at high noon, feasting throughout the city accompanied by plenty of good Accordan wine, and a nighttime fireworks display that illuminated the dark sky with all manner of brightly-colored fantastic shapes. It was one of the most lavish public celebrations in Lucian history, but Noctis barely noticed any of it. All of the food tasted the same to him, and he barely noticed the colorful displays.

All he could think about was the blue light of the Crystal made flesh, in the shape of a beautiful young man.

* * *

From that day forth, Noctis’ magical education began in earnest. His father took him the Crystal each week and taught him how to tap into its power. Noctis learned how to craft walls of magic, summon thunderstorms, break rocks in two. His father pushed him relentlessly, and Noctis felt exhaustion dragging at his bones, but he never complained. Niflheim grew more vicious with each passing day, and duty demanded that he learn to wield the greatest weapon in Lucis’ arsenal.

And besides that, it was exhilarating. The first time he made fire dance in the palm of his hand, he felt his blood singing in his veins; when he reached up to the sky and pulled a bolt of lightning from the clouds, he felt like a god. Nothing could compare to the sensation of bending magic to his will, and he began to understand why so many nations across Eos lusted after it.

But the more magic he used, the more Noctis was aware of something sinister lurking in its core. The power rushing through him left him hungry, but it was a hunger that could not be sated. He _wanted_ to feel like a god; he _wanted_ to crush lesser beings beneath his foot. Surely it wouldn’t be so terrible to raise the earth against the people of Niflheim, crush them beneath rocks and ice. Weren’t they weak? Shouldn’t they be punished for the sins of their Emperor?

_The Crystal’s power comes from blood_ , he thought, and shivered.

But in the end he learned to ignore any misgivings he might have. The spirit of the Crystal called to him, and it would not be denied.

Late at night, when the rest of the Citadel slept, Noctis crept into the Crystal Chamber and summoned the spirit. He closed his eyes and spent hours listening to it spin tales of long lost civilizations, of ancient emperors who built great cities that were now nothing more than dust, priestesses who communed with the gods; and marvelous beasts larger and more fearsome than behemoths, whose bones were now hidden beneath the earth. Noctis could picture everything perfectly in the darkness behind his closed eyelids: a beautiful world crushed beneath the inexorable grind of time.

In turn, Noctis told the spirit about his daily life. He wouldn’t have thought that would be interesting to a being that had existed for so many centuries - what did the spirit care about how much Noctis wished he could go to the Vesperpool and attempt to catch the Liege of the Lake, or feel the wind ruffle his hair as he rode a chocobo across the dusty plains of Leide? - but the spirit listened raptly to his words and seemed to delight in them.

_You make me remember what it was like to be human _,__ it said, and Noctis felt a wave of sorrow wash through his mind _ _. _You make me want to walk free in the world once more.___

It made Noctis’ heart ache. It seemed that even an immortal spirit could grow lonely, and that was a pain Noctis knew well. His own life was privileged but isolated, tightly bound by the convoluted set of laws that governed the Citadel, and he had no one he would consider a close friend…or at least, no one other than the spirit.

The spirit was the only one who understood him.

“Can I set you free?” he asked one night. “Is that possible?”

___Yes_ , __answered the spirit.

“How do I do it?”

The spirit leaned in close to Noctis, so close that Noctis could feel the heat of its preternatural blue flame, and pressed the most delicate of kisses against the curve of his cheekbone.

_When the time comes, you will know._

When Noctis came to breakfast the next morning, he had a small burn mark on his cheek. King Regis’ eyes lingered on it, but he said nothing. Noctis ran his fingers over the reddened skin, remembered the spirit’s kiss, and smiled.

* * *

King Regis died when Noctis was twenty.

The King had gone on his annual progress through the territories outside of Insomnia, stopping at each of the major settlements to let the people look upon their ruler as he reassured them that the Caelums remained strong against the threat of Niflheim. And while he stood upon a balcony in Lestallum, an assassin’s bullet found its way into his heart.

_It was a Niff,_ everyone said. _The Niffs have wanted to kill the king for years, and they’ve finally succeeded_. But there were also whispers that it was a Lucian who held the gun, a Lucian who thought the Caelums had grown too powerful and were little more than tyrants.

Back in Insomnia, Noctis received the news of his ascension with a face of stone. He announced the traditional forty days of mourning for a Lucian monarch, then began to prepare for his own coronation.

It was a somber affair. The day was cold and overcast, and the mood was more grim than celebratory. As soon as the crown rested upon his brow, Noctis made his solitary way to the Crystal Chamber. He sliced his palm on its facets, calling for the spirit with an offering of his blood, and when it appeared, Noctis stretched his hands out in supplication.

“Niflheim will keep coming until I destroy them or they destroy us,” said Noctis. “And even when that happens, it’s only a matter of time until another power rises and comes for the Crystal. Eos will be washed in blood, over and over again, in an endless cycle.”

The spirit bowed its head in acknowledgement of his words.

Noctis stepped forward and cupped the spirit’s face in his hands. Heat singed his palms, but he didn’t pull them away.

“How do I stop it?”

The spirit smiled.

_You must set me free._

Noctis didn’t hesitate. He wrapped his arms around the spirit, pulled its body against his own, and captured its lips in a kiss. He felt fire pour from the spirit into him, and his body burned with an intoxicating mixture of agony and ecstasy. If this was how he was meant to die, Noctis thought, there could be no greater death.

Across Eos, the earth trembled. The seas boiled. Niflheim’s great magitek infantry, the pride of their Empire, shuddered and came to a stop. In Lucis, the glaives who drew their magic from the Crystal through the King felt their power wither away, and they cried out in confusion and alarm.

Noctis opened his eyes. He was alone. The Crystal was nothing more than a shattered, blackened chunk of rock, and the spirit was nowhere to be seen.

The King buried his face in his hands and wept.

* * *

Ten years passed.

Lucis no longer had the power of the Crystal at its command, but the country managed to prosper. Noctis learned how to be a ruler who led his people with wisdom and compassion, wit and diplomacy, rather than one who relied on magic. He became known as a king who was stern but just, and was well loved by his people. But everyone who saw him remarked upon how lonely the king seemed, how he never smiled, and how sad his eyes were.

Then, ten years to the day after Noctis destroyed the Crystal, a stranger appeared in the Citadel and requested an audience with the King. He did not look like anyone from Lucis. Most Lucians had dark hair and dark eyes, but the stranger had golden hair and violet-blue eyes that were the color of long-lost magic.

He did not kneel before the throne, and the Lucian courtiers murmured in shock at his audacity. But King Noctis did not rebuke him. He beckoned the stranger to come closer, and when they finally stood face to face, Noctis pulled him into his arms.

“You came back to me, my love,” said Noctis. His eyes were full of tears.

The stranger smiled and reached up to caress Noctis’ cheeks. His touch no longer burned with magic fire, but held the gentle warmth of flesh and blood.

“Of course I did,” he said.

King Noctis and his consort ruled Lucis together for many years. And when they were finally released from the mortal plane, on the same hour of the same day, they were buried with full honors in a single sarcophagus engraved with the motto that had governed their lives: _Ever At Your Side._


End file.
